Sleep Tight
by ghostlights
Summary: GSR. Grissom in the motel scene that wasn't. Revised Edition


**SLEEP TIGHT**

Believe me, if they were mine, Sara would have had more boyfriends and Grissom would wear much tighter pants.

Grissom drabble, post _that_ Gum-Drops teaser.

Not beta-ed, consider it me flexing my keyboard skills.

  
1003 hrs. 

"Greg snores."

Grissom tried not to look too pitiful. He needed to convey just the right amount of little boy Gilbert with his teddy whom you cannot refuse with just the right amount of Boss Grissom whom you will not refuse if you are wise.

"Greg snores?"

From her overly wide smirk he could tell he was failing at his attempts at authority. But, no matter, Sara was opening the door to let him in anyway.

  
1047 hrs

"Greg snores." He said to himself. "Greg snores?"

Oh, it was far too late but now he was kicking himself. A genius level IQ and that was the best he could come up with. He should have worked on his story first, and _then_ appeared at her door. Planned the crime, not rushed the clean up.

He knew that she knew it was just an excuse but he wished that it had at least been a slightly convincing reason to bed down with the one person on his shift purposely given a harassment free room.

He cautiously shifted his gaze over to Sara's side of the bed. Sara had gone to sleep not ten minutes after getting in the bed and making enough small talk to have been considered hospitable. And now she lay flat on her back with one arm over her head, blue LVPD t-shirt on and no make up. She looked younger in her sleep, the tension drained from her face. Unconsciously he moved back over to the left side of the bed and turned off his lamp willing sleep to come.

  
1053 hrs

The dark didn't help. Now not only was he completely aware of her laying not an arm reach away, he was aware of her breathing pattern. The thought came to him that if he'd stayed in with Greg he'd be asleep by now. Probably after visiting the chemists across from the motel for ear plugs, but definitely asleep. Greg might not snore but that didn't mean his sleep was free of the mania that he thought defined the young mans waking hours.

  
1121 hrs

He had almost been asleep when she sniffled quietly in a dream. He stiffened not sure of the etiquette. Should he comfort her? No, if she woke up that would be not _hard_ to explain but uncomfortable.

He was unsure where he stood with her and made him feel awkward. After Nick and 'the incident', as he had mentally labeled it, to keep it distant in his mind, they had begun to get closer.

Slowly. So slowly.

He wanted to curse her sometimes. He'd always had the unconscious assumption that if he did ever get past his fears about "this" then Sara would be waiting for him at the starting line and together they would move purposefully. Straight to where they were meant to be.

Sara, evidently, did not share his ideas.

While not expressly saying that she didn't trust him with this, her explanation - if we go slower what we'll get will be deeper and richer- with the quick hug that had still pressed her all along his body as though to absorb some of the sting, had spelt out that she didn't trust him with this.

Not of course, he mused, that he could blame her.

But he'd never imagined that he might be left waiting at the starting line tapping his toe.

Objectively viewing their interaction could still make his face burn with shame. He mused how he would have handled her if he had known about her past- _differently_? He was certain of it. And he wondered if it was part of the reason she had kept it from him. Again, he was certain of it. She would have taken it as an insult and an embarrassment to be treated with the kid gloves.

1212 hrs

She shifted towards the middle of the bed making an odd little "chnaff" sound and Grissom became aware of how totally inappropriate it was that he were there. Not because of being her boss, but because of the intimacy involved.

He'd found himself wondering if she spoke in her sleep, hoping at every snuffle that it would magically morph into his name. That maybe she would wake up and invite him to kiss her, to hold her under the covers.

He wondered if he could kiss her without waking her up. The thought made him want to run away. The thought of what she would do if he woke her up made him want to hide.

It was time to be strong he decided. Sleep must come.

Shifting down the mattress he found that exhaustion was finally catching up with him and that as his movement caused the mattress to dip Sara rolled down into it. He wondered if tonight was karma for his sins but lifted his arm to let her settle there anyway.

1820 hrs

Gil woke groggily, the same odd feeling he got when he went to sleep without making sure the room was dark enough. As he slowly found awareness of his surroundings, he became more aware of something else.

He cracked open an eye.

Sara.

Sara suckered to his side like a starfish. Legs tangling with his, arm draped over his middle. Head cradled by his neck, and Christ, he could feel her lips on him she was so close. His arm around her waist holding her too close to him.

What had they done?

And then he followed the evidence.

They were both under the covers sure, but they were both dressed.

The room smelt, but only of them and the sweat of sleeping bodies. And he knew that they hadn't been drinking, and that was what it would have taken for them to have been that reckless this close to their colleagues.

He took the sensation of having been cheated somehow and pushed it away.

He tightened his hold this felt ...good. Better than he realised and he liked waking up like this. It might never happen again, his pessimistic mind told him, so enjoy it now. His heart was telling him otherwise, but he'd ignored it so long and so well that it may as well have been mute.

He knew that it would have to end soon. A look at his watch gave the time and the realisation that Greg might already be awake. And he refused to hurt them both like that, by making them gossip.

He wanted to roll back and sleep a few more hours with the knowledge that Sara was using him for her pillow, wanted to kiss her awake, to feel her grasp tighten around him with her direct intent, but what he wanted and what he could have were strangers to each other. He looked down at her again, and shifting slowly pressed a kiss into her forehead. He used the extra moment to try to memorise exactly how she smelt in the morning. And then slowly, he lifted her arm as he slunk out from her grasp replacing himself with a pillow surrogate.

He held his breath to see whether he'd woken her, relieved and disappointed in equal measure when he hadn't.

He found her face under his fingers then, brushing stray hairs from her face.

"Sleep tight Sara."

He silently collected his glasses and put on the trousers he'd worn to her room the night before and shut the door behind him.


End file.
